Estimated Time of Arrival
by ElizabethBella
Summary: 10Rose, I think. After the separation of Rose and the Doctor, he never stops hoping to see her again. But when he finally does...will he be in time?


_W/N: I don't own Dr. Who or any of that industry. This is for fun (ha!) and not profit._

_W/N2: This is my first Dr. Who fic. Just that I had to write it down and get it out of my head:) This is all there is. I think. _

**oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo**

She stood over her mother's grave, wishing she'd bought some other color of flowers.

_The red looked too much like splashes of blood on such a foggy day._

Using the heel of her hand to brush away the tears that didn't seem to stop, she took a long deep breath.

"How did she die?" He asked, softly, from behind her.

Reaching for the charm at her neck, she didn't turn. She didn't look. "Heart gave out, is what they said."

He stood behind her a long time, neither saying anything. "Won't you turn around?" he asked.

She thought a moment. "No. No, I don't think I will."

"I've come a long way, you have no idea. I practically had t-…"

"I don't care," she interrupted.

"Ah," he sighed. "I don't blame you for being angry."

"I don't care," she repeated. "Your feelings, opinions, thoughts, whatever… they don't matter to me. Not at all."

Although she couldn't see him, he nodded. Sadly.

The wind picked up, pushing the wet air into their faces. Neither moved. "The headstone won't be installed yet for a few months," she told him. "Doesn't seem right, without a headstone."

_Traditions about humans and their burial practices spurned a thousand memories and ideas in his brain. Places he wanted her to see. Ceremonies he wanted her to experience._

Smartly, he kept his mouth shut.

"The key started to glow, faintly. I was getting ready for the funeral and practically jumped out of my skin. I didn't half believe it, at first. Thought I must be seeing things. But no, it was flashing. And that's how I knew it was really you coming. After all this time. Really here. For all the good it does us now."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You think that makes it better?"

"No," his voice somber. "If I could have come sooner…"

"Oh, the great Time Lord. Can go anywhere and anywhen you want but you couldn't get here in time? When you were needed? Save the world but not…" her voice caught. "Not her? Not us?"

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, completely lost now. _He recognized the unyielding pain and anger in her voice. And with it, the realization that she may not melt to him as quickly as he'd hoped._

If at all.

She shook her head and crouched down to straighten the flowers in the vase. Twisted it into the raw dirt, trying to anchor it a bit.

"Won't you…" he leaned forward but she stood suddenly.

"No." she answered. "Whatever you want, no."

"Yeah, OK,' he agreed, stepping back a bit. By now he'd memorized her back. The gentle waves in her damp hair. The set of her shoulders beneath the somber black coat.

She leaned her head forward, pulling something from around her neck. "You know, there are religions and societies, right here on Earth, where, uh, if you exchange a precious object then you're betrothed. Engaged. Actually, more like married."

He went very still. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she agreed, looking up as the mist swept across the rows of graves before them. Feeling his presence behind her. The cool metal in her hand. "The TARDIS is precious, isn't it, Doctor?"

"It is," he agreed softly.

"And it was a different place and time, I know, but it was Earth. Planet Earth that you gave this key?"

"Yes."

"This key?" she repeated, holding out her hand from her side and letting it hang from her fingers on its long, silvery chain.

"Yes."

"But that's all fanciful thinking, ain't it? That it meant something? 'Cos you've got dozens of these. Order them in volume discount, yeah?"

He didn't say anything. Somehow this whole meeting was going terribly pear-shaped. Beyond what he'd feared.

"When you live a couple of millennia or more…the whole universe and time and space as your playground then what's a human life, or two? A short-lived companion. Like a dog, or a cat." She snorted. "Or a goldfish. Hell, I bet these keys usually outlive their owners. Probably, yeah? Because you usually tire of them so fast anyways…"

"**Don't do this**."

"Some people thought my mum was just good for a laugh, you know? Blond hair and tight jumpers and yeah, she was keen in her own way but…"

"Don't," he repeated.

"But she was tough. She didn't let up when she knew what was right. And she did her part to save the world, even if we were the only ones who knew. And she rode in the TARDIS and saw things most wouldn't believe. And she loved me, she loved ME and her family."

"I know. I know…"

She bent her head and tried not to cry. Still holding the key on the chain and suddenly remembering it.

"You were a dad, once."

"I was," he admitted.

"Ever wanted to be again?"

"After the war and everyone…no," he said truthfully. "It didn't even occur to me. It would be a miracle, though. The good kind, I think."

"Yeah?" she prodded.

"Yeah," he promised her.

She nodded, almost to herself. Let her thoughts drift across her mind. Inhaled the cool air. Felt her hair grow damp on her face.

Looked down. Almost memorizing each curve of each petal. _Each useless petal that seemed like stupid sentimentality now._

Exhaled.

"Too bad, then," she decided. The key fell from her fingertips and landed in the freshly turned earth of her mother's grave.

Straightening, sure, she walked forward. The path of bright green grass beneath her feet. Each step taking her farther away from the man she had decided not to meet.

He watched her go and then glanced at the key. He knew he should leave it there, next to the roses. He knew it was failing every rightful test she could give him to pick it up.

_That he should leave it there, and chase her. Because she was more important than a thing, right?_

_But the TARDIS key couldn't be left like that to make some maudlin point. That was far too human, and short-sighted._

The weight of it settled in his pocket like the decision in his mind.

"Goodbye," he whispered to the grave.

And then he turned and left the way he'd come. None the wiser.

And too late.


End file.
